She felt a woman's pride in that she had made him stop smoking.

Another time she would persuade him to take a position, for had he not said he would do anything she asked?
She left his side to explore the room, examining the clothes-lines of notes overhead, learning the mystery of the tackle used for suspending his wheel under the ceiling, and being saddened by the heap of manuscripts under the table which represented to her just so much wasted time.

The oil-stove won her admiration, but on investigating the food shelves she found them empty.
"Why, you haven't anything to eat, you poor dear," she said with tender compassion.

"You must be starving." "I store my food in Maria's safe and in her pantry," he lied.

"It keeps better there.